your birthdays

5th birthday: my grandmother came over to Tallahassee to celebrate it, I received a new backpack and an easel

6th and 7th birthdays: both spent at Chuck E. Cheese (yikes!), can't remember much of the seventh one but the sixth one was notable for having all my kindergarten classmates and a slough of relatives over, and my little kindergarten girlfriend gave me a book

10th birthday: spent in Panama City, can't remember much about it aside from seeing the house that my aunt and uncle and three cousins were building for themselves (and never ended up moving into as their grandmother moved down from Maryland and claimed the place all to herself)

13th birthday: dinner at Olive Garden, received a new stereo

16th birthday: very miserable as we couldn't afford to do anything and only one person outside of my family remembered it -- she baked me a cake, which was really sweet of her, but it was still a depressing day and that whole week was one of the lowest in memory as death seemed to be everywhere at that time

17th birthday: nothing really happened that day and it was as dull as the one from the year before since yet again we couldn't afford to celebrate it or get any presents

18th birthday: the day itself proved really dull (except that I ended up staying after school an hour later than expected because the fucktard city bus driver stopped 100 feet before the stop and made everyone walk up to it, drove another 300 feet and made everyone at the stop walk back to it again, and then the driver sped off without anyone boarding) but we actually did celebrate this one four days later by going out to dinner and then seeing I Heart Huckabees, although none of my acquaintances went with me as none of them were interested in seeing it

19th birthday: is next month

don't remember 15th 16th and 17th

18th - decided to go to pub. got id'd, no id on me. went to another pub was okay. mates decide to go to club, i couldn't get in. went home.

19th - present day (32), don't celebrate birthdays.

18 - had an A level exam and got ID-ed at the pub I'd be going to for a year. A few days later I think I had a fondue party at home.

19 - homemade cocktails in my university halls. Ruin. Ill-advised snog with someone not my boyfriend. Week-long recriminations.

20 - had a fancy dress party at my house, on a 'p' theme. Dressed as a prostitute and got depressed about the boy I liked who turned up at the party at 3am and was inscrutable and weird. Ill-advised heavy petting with someone else's boyfriend. (A pattern emerges.)

21 - joint celebration with two friends in York's classiest wine bar. Had hiccups all night. Can't remember how I got home, was very ill. Next day: dragged myself out for picnic in the Museum Gardens. Ate cheesecake, played frisbee. My boyfriend gave me a watch and then we went home and made the sex.

22 - party on Brighton beach. Too hot. Miserable because my boyfriend had to leave on a coach to Glasgow half way through.

23 - can't remember.

24 - can't remember.

25 - can't remember.

26 - party in a park, French cricket, nice food. Rain then pub.

27 - combined with hen night though not really. Went to see tennis in Eastbourne. Posh meal in Brighton.

18 - 20 - huge parties at my parents' house with much underage drinking and jamming on guitars. Dare and I have the same birthday so we usually would combine. My mum was quite pragmatic about it, and said that 18 was the drinking age in England so it was fine if we drank, so long as all our friends handed in their keys and she would sniff their breath when they wanted to leave to make sure no one drank and drove. Those were some great parties. :-)

21 - legally able to drink at last, and my first proper band's very first gig. (you will sense a theme developing here.)

22 - party at a friend's house in downtown Albany. My band played. The cops got called. It was a run-up to a long summer of tangles with the cops culminating with getting arrested due to the bad boyfriend.

23 - 29 no idea. Blimey, that's bad. Drugs really will ruin your memory, kids.

30 - weekend of All Tomorrows Parties. Mogwai wished me happy birthday from the stage. (Actually, this may not be true. They wished someone happy birthday from the stage - their Weejan accents were so thick we just assumed it was me.)

31 - I think my band played a Ladyfest benefit somewhere in Camden that weekend. I was still quite ill so it's hard to remember. My actual birthday I spent in the studio - and then went to a Yo La Tengo gig. And fainted. Embarrassing.

32 - My band played a massive private party at the Water Rats with Fonda 500. My bassist did not tell me until afterwards (when I had got so drunk I could barely stand up, botched our gig, and ended up dancing onstage with Fonda 500) that she had invited the booking agent for Glasto and I'd totally blown it. For gods sake, it was my birthday, sod our "career" I had a fantastic time.

33 - Dara visited from America and we had a massive birthday blowout weekend. Played a gig (Lollies farewell gig it turned out to be) at the Windmill with a new record of FOUR ex and current boyfriend(s) in the room. Excruciating.

34 - RUBBISH. Boyfriend booked one of his art openings the day before, then insisted we spend the weekend in the country with his mum so I didn't even get a party with my friends.

35 River Lee Or Lea Walk (and Birthday FAP) 10th April - best! birthday! yet!

i was at the french cricket one too.

Also, Ally C and/or Carsmile Steve to thread!

This sounds like I'm being ungrateful for the company of friends, which is absolutely not the case. I just meant it wasn't the rock'n'roll debauched goodbye to my 20s that it could have been, had it not been a Wednesday night just before Christmas.

On my 21st birthday an amatuer dj friend of mine was playing at a gig in a loft apartment for someones 30th. She invited a group of us along and kindly agreed to let me share the limelight.

Her home was lovely, she had a mezzanine level overlooking her lounge which was transformed into a dancefloor for the night. All of her guests were cool hip city types and it looked like being a fantastic night.

Unfortunately I hadn't accounted for the behaviour of my (then) boyfriend, whom I shall now on refer to as Ballhead. He was well known for getting into a bit of a mess where drugs were concerned, which meant that on nights out I had to keep a straight head on in order to get him home in one piece and ensure he didn't get into any trouble.

He agreed to stay in a reasonable state because it was my birthday and I was choking to let loose. I quite happily popped a pill and settled down to enjoy myself.

So after a bit of dancing, a bit of mingling etc I headed back up to the mezzanine where the decks were, and was accosted by my dj mate. "Can you straighten him up a bit," he asked, "he keeps staggering towards the decks"

True enough, Ballhead was on his feet dancing, arms going like windmills, jaw sticking out like a sweaty teenage gurner. I told him to go downstairs if he wanted to dance as he was going to end up wrecking something, but trying to get him down the stairs was too much trouble. I sat him down, gave him a joint to distract him and tried to get on with enjoying myself.

A few minutes later I overheard one of the guests saying to someone "Who's the twat upstairs talking to the jackets?" i didn't want to check, but I had to, and there he was, on the seat next to all the coats talking about his favourite rap artists. At least he wasn't bouncing from wall to wall - I let him be.

The night hotted up, it was starting to become really good, the music was getting there, almost everyone was dancing and it was beginning to feel like a club. Suddenly CRASH - the music stopped. All heads swivelled up. Ballhead was on his feet apologising in a made up language to the dj who was picking his 12-10's up off the floor. Everyone in the room was shaking their heads in disgust and looking pityingly at me. I was tempted to flee by myself. Suddenly feeling as straight and as sober as my mother, I went up the stairs to get Ballhead into his jacket. "We're going home." I told him.

I got him down the first set of stairs into the lounge (a couple of ashtrays and drinks fell victim to his fat feet). "Is that her boyfriend?" someone asked. "Poor cow."

I had to enlist the help of three guys I didn't even know to get Ballhead down the four flights of stairs and out into the street. Nobody said goodbye. When I checked my watch it was 12.01. My birthday was over.